Grace
by santeria
Summary: Summer and Kirsten are having a perfectly decent day shopping at the mall, but it all ends suddenly. Are they going to be okay, or will tragedy strike? Rated T for violence and cursing.
1. Chapter 1

Summer smiled as she sat at the little plastic table in the mall's food court. It had been a very good day, one of the best Summer had had in a long time, in fact. She had somehow ended up going shopping with Kirsten Cohen. Summer had always liked her, but she hadn't expected her to turn into a real friend. It actually made Summer kind of nervous; after all, Kirsten _was _Seth's mom, and Summer hadn't had a best friend since Marissa died. Sure, Taylor had been there, and she was nice, but Summer had never felt really connected to her.

Kirsten came back from throwing their garbage away. The two picked up their bags, which was difficult because there were so many. Summer felt giddiness growing in her as she took in the sunlight streaming prettily through the palm leaves as they crossed the parking lot and she thought about trying on her new clothes and telling Seth about her day and playing with Pancakes. It was going to be a perfect day.

She should have known that it couldn't have lasted.

They finally reached the car, which was parked rather far back because the lot had been full when they'd arrived. The shopping bags were loaded into the trunk, and just as Summer was about to climb into the car, she noticed Kirsten suddenly stop, a frown spreading across her face.

"What is it?"

Kirsten pulled a small bag with a Paul Frank logo on it out of the car. "I forgot to return this for Seth."

Summer shrugged. "You can go return it and I'll wait here for you."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah."

Summer watched the older woman walk briskly off, then shut the door and leaned against the side of the door, slipping her sunglasses on. A soft breeze ruffled her hair, and Summer tapped her foot absentmindedly on the asphalt as she waited. So absorbed was she in her thoughts that she didn't even hear the footsteps approaching from her left.

She had been staring at the blueness of the sky and thinking about Che's latest campaign, which was protesting against air pollution. Her train of thought was interrupted when she was grabbed from the side and a hand clapped over her mouth, muffling her shocked scream. The person behind her turned her so that her back was against him and she couldn't see him.

"Give me the keys." The man growled, and Summer felt the barrel of a gun pressed against her side. Fear ballooned up inside of her stomach, and she felt as if she needed to puke. Her eyes scanned the lot frantically. There was no one in sight.

"Give me the goddamn keys!" The gun pressed harder into her side, causing Summer to gasp.

"I don't have them." answered Summer, but of course he couldn't understand her with his hand over her mouth. She felt her purse being ripped brusquely off her shoulder; the man had quickly shifted the gun over to his right hand, holding the gun to her head while also gripping her hair. With his left had he turned the purse over so that the contents tumbled out. A lip gloss, her cell phone, her wallet, and various other trivial things clattered on the asphalt. Even though her mouth was no longer being covered by the guy's hand, Summer still didn't make any noise. She stood silently and hoped for the best.

This was most certainly not what Kirsten had been expecting when she spotted the car. She had been walking across the lot, but had stopped short upon seeing a man holding a gun to Summer. He was demanding the keys to the car.

Kirsten had the keys. She hadn't thought to give them to Summer.

She watched, horrified, as the man snatched Summer's purse and moved the gun to her head. By then, her mind was screaming at her to _go get help_, but the calmer, more rational part of her mind insisted that it would take too long to walk all the way back to the mall and find a security desk. So Kirsten did the only thing she could think of at the moment, and she reached into her own purse with shaking hands and pulled out the keys.

She stood completely still for a moment, steeling herself for what she was about to do. When she felt more composed, she resumed walking toward the car. She saw that the man was looking at the things that he had thrown out of Summer's purse. Upon hearing her footsteps he looked up, and stared at her as she held out the keys to him.

For a moment, Kirsten thought she saw fear as well as astonishment flutter across his face as he stared. He seemed to be thinking over something; still, Kirsten stood in front of him, proffering the keys.

It happened very suddenly. In a flurry of movement, he shoved Summer roughly away, and the next thing Kirsten knew was that he had grabbed her around the waist, wrenched open the passenger door, and shoved her in. Her head was spinning. He climbed in after her, slammed the door shut, and crawled over to the driver's seat. He started the car, shifted it into drive, then slammed on the gas.

It was only when he exited the parking lot that Kirsten registered that this was kidnaping.

By then, he had slowed to a few miles-per-hour above the speed limit, his eyes searching the streets for cop cars. Kirsten was looking for them too, but for entirely different reasons.

He hadn't planned it to turn out like this. All he wanted was the car. Because that was what he did- steal cars, get rid of the plates, and sell them. He had never encountered a problem such as this before. Usually, the women gave him the keys and he sped off before they could get a look at him.

And the job today really would have turned out okay if the blonde woman hadn't appeared out of nowhere. He could have pushed the brunette away and disappeared before anyone saw him. But then he had heard footsteps and looked up right into the face of the blonde.

She had seen his face. She knew what he looked like and she would have told the police about it for sure. He couldn't afford to get caught by the police. So he panicked, and in his panic he had dragged her into the car with him.

Kidnaping really hadn't been part of the agenda.

But now he was stuck with her. As he drove, he pondered what to do with her. Maybe he could just drop her off in the middle of nowhere? No, because then she'd still be able to describe him to the police and then he would also be charged with kidnaping when he was caught. He couldn't risk it. Maybe he could kill her? He didn't think he could bring himself to do that; he was no killer.

He glanced over at her. He noted that she had buckled her seatbelt; maybe she'd been afraid that they would crash. She was also leaning away from him. There was a slightly defiant expression on her face, but her eyes betrayed her- there was fear in them.

He sighed, causing her to tense. He couldn't just drop her off and he couldn't kill her. That meant he would have to keep her for now. At least until he figured out what to do with her.

He glanced over at her again.

She was his now.


	2. Chapter 2

He would have to get rid of the car. It wouldn't be too hard; they could just hide out until dark, then go to a car lot he knew and steal an old junk car.

He also needed to do something with the woman. Her long blonde hair was way too conspicuous. If he was going to keep her, something would have to be done about that hair. Those clothes too; they would look too high-class for a woman riding in an old beat-up car. He figured that buying hair dye and getting ratty old clothes would be easy enough. He'd just have to find some way to keep her locked up while he went and bought the stuff.

The part of town that he was now driving through looked pretty poor and rough. He pulled the car behind an abandoned building and turned off the engine. The woman looked over and bit her lip, like she wanted to say something but didn't dare. He realized that he didn't know her name. Wordlessly he reached over and pulled her purse from her lap. She didn't protest.

He held the gun pointed at her with one hand, and with the other he rifled through the bag until he found her wallet. He opened it and looked over her driver's license. _Kirsten Cohen_, it read. He flipped the wallet shut and dropped it into the purse, which he tossed at her. She flinched then glared at him.

"Well, Kirsten, you might want to get used to being with me. Because you're stuck with me now."

x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x

Summer, at first, had been totally confused. She'd seen Kirsten come over and hold out the car keys to the guy. Next thing she knew, the world was blurring past her as she fell to the ground. She'd held out her hands to break the fall, and had ended up badly scraping her palms and the side of her face. There was the distant sound of an engine revving, and when Summer had finally gotten her bearings back, she'd looked up to see that the car, the man, and Kirsten had all disappeared.

She had stood, trembling, and started ambling back to the mall, to find a security guard or something. There was one standing right near the entrance, and upon seeing Summer his eyes widened and he stepped over to her.

"Are you alright, miss?"

"Idon'tknowwhattodohejustcameoutofnowhereandnowIcan'tfindKirstenan-" Her rambling was stopped when she noticed that tears were running down her face and that the security guard was looking at her oddly. He took her gently by the arm.

"Come on."

He led her to a security desk, where another guard was sitting, chewing bubble gum and snapping it loudly.

"What happened to her?" he said when he saw Summer.

The first guard shrugged. "I don't know. She's incoherent."

The other man nodded then stood and went around the desk. He took Summer by her other arm. The first guard let go and walked away. The second guard said, "Let's get you something to drink, okay?"

He led her through a door behind the desk and into an austere room. The walls were plain and white, and a table and a couple of chairs were in the center of the room. There was one of those water-jug thingies, and the guard let go of Summer, grabbed a little paper cup, and filled it with cold water. Summer took it and sat. The guard watched her drink, then said, "Now, can you tell me what happened?"

Summer bit her lip and nodded. She stared into her empty cup while she talked. "I was in the parking lot and some guy came up to me with a gun and told me to give him the keys to the car but I didn't have the car keys and I tried to tell him that..." She sniffled loudly, and the guard said, "A car-jacking, then? I can put in a call to the police station and they'll have your car back in no time."

"But it might be too late by then!" Summer wailed, wringing her hands and crumpling the flimsy cup.

The guard looked surprised. "You're car will be fine." There was a hint of annoyance in his voice, much to Summer's disbelief. She stood quickly and narrowed her eyes at him.

"_I don't care about the freakin' car!_ I'm worried about my friend. I think the guy took her with him when he stole the car, because she was standing right in front of me and then the guy pushed me to the ground and when I looked up she was gone."

The guard rubbed his forehead, frustrated, then turned and started toward the door. He muttered, "Well, this changes _everything_" then turned to Summer and said in his normal voice "I'm going to call the police. Just wait here, it won't take long." He shut the door behind him, leaving Summer completely alone.

Summer tapped her fingers on the tabletop, wondering how the Cohen men would take the news. What if they blamed her? Her insides turned cold at the thought. _It's not my fault...is it?_

x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x

Kirsten was both very bored and very terrified. They'd been sitting in the car for hours, doing nothing. Maybe the man was waiting for someone? She desperately hoped not.

Dusk had fallen, and the man's attention seemed to pique. He was sitting very still. Abruptly he moved forward and revved the engine. He didn't turn the headlights on before backing slowly out from behind the building._ I hope he crashes because he's not using the headlights._

Luck, however, seemed to be on his side; they did not crash. This was probably due to the fact that there were hardly any cars on the road at all. At least he seemed to know where they were headed.

Kirsten wondered where they were going, why they had waited until nightfall. The darkness and silence made her even more frightened, and she gripped the edge of her seat hard. She was completely unfamiliar with this part of town, though it did remind her slightly of Chino.

She twisted her wedding rings as he drove, until they were on the outskirts of the town. The darkness revealed a lot full of old trashy cars and broken car parts. The metal gleamed faintly in the moonlight. The man parked her car but left the keys in the ignition. Kirsten felt him tug hard on her hair; he had opened his door and was pulling her out after him.

"Leave your purse in the car." He whispered, closing the door quietly behind her. He started to walk around the lot, still pulling her by her hair. She kept stumbling because he was walking so fast.

He stopped in front of a few cars, but finally reached through the windowless door of a rusty old car that looked in relatively good shape compared to others in the lot. She didn't know why he had stopped, but when he pulled his hand out, she saw metal sparkling in his hand. Keys. _Why_ _the hell did someone leave the keys to this piece of junk?_ The man was grinning, and Kirsten felt him pull on her hair harder. He pushed her into the passenger seat and climbed into the driver's side.

He tried the keys. The car ground to life, much to Kirsten's amazement.

He steered the car jerkily over to her Lexus, stopping right next to its open window. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a box of matches. Striking one, he tossed the burning match into her car, setting the seat aflame. He did it again.

Kirsten stared in shock, her mouth open. _He's burning my car!_

The man resumed his unsteady driving. As they left the lot, Kirsten twisted back in her seat to watch the rising flame that used to be her car.

Now she had almost nothing left to remind her of her family and her home. She had only her wedding ring and her nice clothes left and her name left, but little did she know that those would soon be taken from her as well.


	3. Chapter 3

Kirsten struggled to keep her eyes open as they drove, but the rush of adrenaline caused by her fear had ceased and left her too tired. Her head dropped against the dirty, broken window and her eyes fluttered shut. It wasn't long before she had drifted off into a dead sleep.

_Where was she? She'd opened her eyes and found herself in a place she'd never been before. The landscape was desolate, gray, and covered in ash. She looked behind and saw a few burnt, black twigs that used to be trees. A light breeze swept over her, blowing her hair into her face. Brushing the strands away, she surveyed her surroundings. The only other thing she saw was a black road, leading off into the distance. Having nothing else to do, she followed the road, her footsteps echoing faintly off the macadam. As she walked she searched for any signs of life, but saw no one else on or off the road._ _The wind whistled sadly. A gray, dirty snow began to fall slowly. _

_Suddenly, a flash of color to her right. Blue. Quickly she turned in time to see a girl running in the opposite direction. Her dark hair streamed behind her as she ran, and her blue dress flapped around her legs. Wait, Kirsten called to her, but the girl kept running and didn't look back. Please, I need help. Kirsten began to run after her. The gray snowflakes fell faster and thicker, swirling in front of her face and obscuring her vision. She tripped over something, tumbling to the ground and getting a face full of ash. She sat up and brushed her face clean with her hands. The blue girl was gone. _

Kirsten was briefly but not fully roused from her sleep when she felt her wrist being moved. There was a vague thought that she should wake up, but instead she just shifted to a more comfortable position and continued sleeping.

_She searched frantically around for the girl, and found nothing but an old, partially burnt-down house. She wandered towards it. The snowfall abated. From behind the house, smoke began to rise. Kirsten walked around the side of the house and peered around the corner to see who had started it. As she did so, everything began to fade to black. _

The rest of her sleep was dreamless.

x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x

He ran. He needed to go fast, while she was still asleep. He'd tied her wrists together, and she'd stirred, and he'd been terrified that she would wake up and try to fight him. But she hadn't, and he'd taken money from her purse before running into the store.

Now he dashed through the self-checkout– the regular lines were too long. His hands were shaking slightly, and as soon as he was finished he grabbed the stuff and took off for the car.

She was still sleeping. He couldn't believe it. Relieved, he tossed the stuff in the backseat and started the car again.

So far the extent of his plan was to go up to Ventura, because he knew a guy there who would fix his car for free. Well, not exactlyfree– he'd have to pay _something._ Just not money.

Speaking of money, he needed some. The woman had some in her purse, but he didn't want to waste all of it on gas. Which he also needed, he realized as he saw that he was pretty much running on empty. Damn.

There. A gas station. His was the only car. As he stopped at the pump, the woman woke, looking surprised to see that her hands were tied. He shot her a warning look and got out, making sure the doors were locked. He watched her out of the corner of his eye as he filled the tank, wondering what he'd do if she tried to escape. He paid and when he sat back down in the car, she spoke.

"I need to go to the bathroom."

It was the first time she'd said anything to him, and her voice was soft and timid. He groaned.

"Fine."

He pulled into a parking space near the bathroom and, looking around to make sure no one was looking, pulled her out of the car by her elbow. He grabbed the bag and pushed her into the tiny bathroom. He stepped in after her and locked the door, placing the bag on the dirty counter. She was looking at him dubiously, with a 'Why-are-you-in-here-with-me?' expression on her face. He untied her hands and stood there.

She didn't move. After a few tense moments of silence he turned to face the door. She still made no move toward the toilet.

"I'm not leaving, " he said. He heard her frustrated sigh, followed by the sound of movement. He focused intensely on the door, wondering how long it takes to dye hair. Hopefully not too long, because whoever worked at the gas station would get suspicious if they were in the bathroom for an hour.

He waited until she'd washed her hands to turn around, then went to the counter and dumped the contents of the bag onto the counter. There was a pair of scissors, a box of brown hair dye, and some cheap clothes. He got to work, simply cutting her hair straight across, at shoulder length. It didn't look too good, but it wasn't like he'd ever cut a woman's hair before. He had to read the instructions for the hair dye several times, and by the time he was done, Kirsten's hair was a mousy brown. She frowned at her reflection in the cracked mirror. He handed her the clothes and ordered her to change before turning to face the door again. He held the scissors, because he didn't want her getting any crazy ideas about stabbing him with them.

He'd had to guess her clothing size, but hadn't done a very good job, as the clothes hung too loose on her thin frame. He shoved her old clothes into the trash can, and they went back to the car. Once on the road, he was struck by another idea. The name 'Kirsten' wasn't exactly common, and he couldn't call her that in public lest there was a missing persons notice about her on TV and people knew her name. So he needed to call her something else.

"From now on, you're not going by Kirsten. I'm gonna call you...Grace."

x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x

Summer blinked and squinted, then held up her hand to block the morning sun's rays from shining right into her eyes. She was lying down on the Cohens' sofa, where she'd slept that night. Much to her surprise, the Cohens had not blamed her for Kirsten's disappearance. What they had done was file a missing persons report, and decided to go looking for any sign of the Lexus as soon as possible (which was today).

There was something profoundly different in the Cohen household. It was too silent. Neither Seth nor Mr. Cohen talked. Ryan didn't either, but that was nothing new. Seth, on the other hand...Seth being not talkative scared Summer.

The evening before, Julie had been thoughtful enough to bring a little suitcase full of Summer's clothes, since no one knew how long Summer would be staying with the Cohens. Now, Summer carried the suitcase to the bathroom and searched for something suitable to wear. She ended up wearing dark blue jeans and a light blue sweater.

She didn't know why, but she just felt like wearing blue today.


	4. Chapter 4

Seth and Summer hardly spoke; they simply scanned the streets, looking for Kirsten's car. Seth was driving, and Summer was twisting her fingers anxiously. Ryan and Mr. Cohen had taken the other car.

Suddenly Seth broke the silence.

"You think she's alright?"

"Yeah. She's strong. I mean, she put up with her father and the Newpsies all these years, I'm sure she can handle one crazy guy."

Seth smiled sadly, and Summer added, "I mean it. I'm sure she's fine."

They rode in silence again. After about seven minutes Summer whispered, "It's my fault, you know. If I hadn't sent her back to the store to return that stuff..."

"In that case, it's my fault too because those were my things she went to return in the first place." Seth's said sarcastically, with a hint of bitterness in his voice.

Summer didn't say anything. Seth continued speaking.

"You can't blame yourself. It's no one's fault but the kidnapper's."

"Yeah, I guess." Summer looked out the window, watching the buildings and the people outside. It was weird how they were so happy, so oblivious, to what was going on. She wanted to scream at them, to grab them each by the shoulders and give them a good, hard shake. But she knew she couldn't, because she needed to stay strong and calm for the Cohens' sake.

As they drove, Summer remembered something she'd heard a long time ago. _You cannot prevent what you cannot predict_. She wished she could have predicted this somehow, could have stopped it all from happening. She sighed. Too late now.

x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x

They were in Ventura at last. He thanked the powers that be, because the car was making a strange grinding noise that warned of a break down. Now, if only he could remember where that mechanic guy worked...ah, there it was. He slowed down and pulled into the parking lot. After he had parked and shut off the ignition, he turned to Kirsten.

"Don't try anything or you will regret it." He gestured to his gun, which was tucked in his belt. She nodded then reached up to brush her hair out of her face. As she did so, a glint on her finger caught his eye. Her wedding rings. Something in his mind clicked. Maybe he could sell them and then he'd be able to pay for getting his car fixed up. Without warning he grabbed her wrist (more roughly than he'd intended) and pulled the rings off her finger. When he let go of her wrist she didn't pull back. On the contrary she leaned forward and tried to get hold of them. "Please don't take them...please...they're not worth anything, only about a quarter each..." She desperately kept trying to grab them. He swatted her hand away and pushed her back, giving her a questioning look. What the hell is she talking about? A quarter each? He lifted up one ring to the light so he could see it better, then a look of disappointed surprise swept over his face.

The rings were plastic. The kind of thing that you got for a quarter from those little toy machines. He stared. He'd thought she was rich. After all she did live in Newport and drive a fancy car; so why the hell was she wearing plastic wedding rings? Disgusted, he tossed the rings into the backseat. The woman lunged for them, but before she could reach them he pulled her out of the car.

He didn't let go of her as they walked in. She was glancing around, catching people's eyes. He yanked on her arm and gave her a warning glare; she looked down at her feet and didn't look up again.

"Hi." he said to the guy behind the counter, whose name tag read George. George, a burly man with dirt under his nails, grunted out a "Hey. What can I do ya for?" and surveyed the two. His eyes lingered on Kirsten longer than necessary, and she stepped nervously closer to her captor.

"You don't remember me, man? We met in L.A. before, I gave you a lift to that party and let you crash in my apartment. You said you owed me one."

George's face lit up in recognition. "Oh, yeah, I remember you. That was 'bout 2 months ago, right? Here to cash in on that favor?"

The man nodded. "I need my car fixed up."

"No problem."

"Well, I don't got any money on me."

The mechanic thought for a moment, then his eyes turned to Kirsten again. He grinned slowly. "I'm sure we can work something out."

The implication was obvious. He wasn't sure if he wanted to trade her for a car fix-up, but at the moment there seemed no other choice. George interrupted his thoughts. "Let's go check your car, 'kay?"

He didn't let go of the woman the whole time, and to his surprise she stayed pretty close to him. He could tell that she was nervous about George.

The mechanic had opened the rusty hood, and after a bit he shut it and said, "This looks bad, man, we're gonna need lotsa new parts and it's gonna take awhile. Maybe a coupla days."

The man pounded his fist on the hood in frustration. "We don't got anywhere to go, no money either."

George said, "You can crash at my place."

x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x

Kirsten wanted to run. There was no way in hell that she was going to stay at this pervert's apartment. But her captor said "Thanks" and the two men shook on it like old friends. George stuck out his hand toward Kirsten too.

"I don't believe we've met."

The man jumped in. "This is Grace,she's a, er, friend."

George gripped her hand. "Pleased to meet ya." He winked and didn't let go of her hand. She forced a smile and tried to pull her hand away, but his grip was like iron. Eventually he did let go, then turned to the man again and said, "Tell ya what, here's some money. Can you go buy some beer for tonight? The liquor store's right up the street." He pointed in the direction of the liquor store.

"Cool." The man nodded and started to lead Kirsten away. She hesitantly followed, terrified that they might make her drink some of the beer. She wanted to tell the guy that she couldn't drink, that she used to be an alcoholic, but she knew that he wouldn't care. Suddenly, her stomach growled hungrily. The man glanced back and said, "We'll eat soon."

Kirsten remembered that she hadn't eaten since the day before. She was hungry, tired, wanted to go home, and was stuck with this guy and George and beer. When they entered the liquor store, she focused on thoughts of her family to keep her distracted from all the alcohol. She thought of Sandy, the way he always schmeared a bagel for her in the mornings...she'd missed her bagel that day. Seth...she longed to hear his witty comments and retaliatory zingers, no matter if he was teasing her and Sandy about making out in the kitchen. She missed Ryan, his taciturn but caring demeanor. And she wanted to see Summer and Julie and Taylor and even Taryn would make her feel better. She was jarred from her thoughts when they got back to the mechanic store and George came out, throwing on a thin jacket. "Let's go home."

George's apartment was tiny, relatively empty, and on the first floor of the apartment complex. There wasn't much to eat, but Kirsten was starving so she ate whatever was given to her. The two men started to drink the beer, but Kirsten steadfastly refused. _Maybe I can get away if they pass out._

It wasn't long before both men were completely wasted. George actually didn't have as much to drink as her kidnapper (who had yet to let Kirsten out of his reach). So when the man passed out on the couch, Kirsten was left alone with George, who pushed the man rudely off the sofa and onto the floor then sat, pulling Kirsten down next to him. The TV blared commercials, and for a while the two just watched it; Kirsten was hoping that he'd also pass out soon so she could run.

Just as she started to relax a little (being so tense all the time was wearing her out), George made his move. He suddenly shifted over next to Kirsten, staring at her. She scooted away, but he moved forward until she was pressed against the armrest of the couch, feeling as if she was going to be pushed over onto the floor. She started to stand up, and George pulled her back down on the couch. Next thing she knew, he had pressed his lips roughly onto hers. His full weight was pressing down on her, and she couldn't breathe, couldn't scream or speak, and her arms were pinned down underneath her so she couldn't fight back.

_He's not Sandy_, was her only thought. _No one can kiss me except Sandy_. She twisted her head, trying to avoid his lips again. She felt his hands pushing up her shirt, his hips pressing against her, his erection pressing against her leg. He kissed her again, his tongue probing her mouth hungrily. So she did the only thing she could think of.

She bit his tongue. Hard.

He howled in pain, immediately pulling back, though not fast enough for her to avoid tasting his blood. He was swearing loudly and blood was dripping from his lips, and Kirsten scrambled back over the armrest and made a desperate bid for freedom. She hadn't yet reached the halfway point between the couch and the door when she felt his hands grabbing her shoulders and whirling her around to face him. His fist connected bone-crushingly with the left side of her face, sending her flying backwards. The back of her head slammed into the corner of a table. Pain seeped over her skull before she mercifully blacked out.


	5. Chapter 5

Kirsten groaned and slowly opened her eyes. For a moment all she saw was the color white. _Heaven?_ She became aware of a crushing weight on top of her, pressing on her bones, suffocating her. _Or hell? _The room fizzled into view, and Kirsten turned her head groggily away from the blank white wall. Out of the corner of her eyes she saw what the weight was. George, who was passed out. She groaned again and shifted, trying to push him off. He was too heavy, and the movement only resulted in a sharp pain between her thighs. _Definitely hell._

She flopped back down, exhaling loudly as his full weight fell on her again. She turned her head away from the wall to face the other direction. There was the couch, and by straining to look around it she could see her kidnapper still lying unconscious on the floor. Kirsten would just have to wait until he awoke.

The TV was still blaring.

About twenty minutes later she saw the man awake. He ambled up and shuffled off to the bathroom. Kirsten heard him retching. He reappeared, looking confusedly around. When he spotted Kirsten and George, he stopped and stared. She looked imploringly back at him. She took a deep breath and managed to tell him to get George off of her. He hesitated then nodded, walking over and grabbing George's shoulders and trying to roll him off. Grunting, he finally succeeded. Kirsten started to stand, but was stopped by the pain again. The man pulled her up and deposited her carelessly on the couch, where she curled up and buried her face in the cushion.

_How dare George do that?_ She heard the man clanking aimlessly around the kitchen. She looked up and thought, _And shouldn't he be mad about this? Unless...he had something to do with it._

That's when it clicked in her head. Fury filled her, and she didn't think as she launched herself off the couch. She hurtled toward the man, who looked up, startled, just in time to see her fist flying at him. He ducked, but she jumped on his back and started yanking at his hair and clawing at him. "You! It's your fault!" She screamed curses at him, hitting blindly at him in her rage. He was trying to throw her off but she clung on, kicking and scratching. Lord, she hated him and she was gonna make him pay!

Finally he managed to throw her off, knocking her to the ground. She ignored the throbbing in her head and scrambled back up, ready to attack again. This time he caught her by the arms. "What the fuck is wrong with you?! Stop it!" His face was bleeding rather profusely and his shirt was torn in several places, revealing deep scratches from her nails.

As he looked at her, she felt the very strong, sudden urge to cry. But she didn't, because her father had taught her that crying made you look weak, and that was the last thing Kirsten needed right now.

In her peripheral vision she saw an empty beer bottle on the counter, and an idea popped into Kirsten's head. She stopped fighting, and after a few seconds he reluctantly let her go. He cautiously took a step back, still looking at her, then continued backing away until he was a sizeable distance away from her. He rubbed his temples and muttered something about a hangover. The whole time she stood completely still-- she needed him to let his guard down.

When he at last turned around to sit on the couch, she snatched up the beer bottle and sidled up behind him. He glanced back at her, and she casually hid the beer bottle behind her back. He eyed her suspiciously for a moment, then evidently decided that she was no longer a threat and he turned back to the TV.

Kirsten had never been the kind of person who could easily harm someone else. She had always felt terrible afterward. But this...this needed to be done. While he focused on the TV, she raised the bottle high and brought it crashing down on his head.

x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x

He was pissed. He'd just woken up with a throbbing hangover and the need to vomit and one of the first things he saw was George passed out on top of the woman. That had put him in a bad mood, but then things had only gotten worse. Where the hell did she get off attacking him? He hadn't done anything!

It caught him by total surprise. He'd been starting to feel better, and then she'd gone and hit him over the head with a beer bottle! If he'd known having that hiding a kidnapped woman was such hard work he wouldn't have done it.

The blow to the head didn't knock him out- she wasn't that strong- but it did hurt like hell, especially because he already had a raging headache. The force and surprise of it actually knocked him off the couch. The pain was blinding, and all he could do was scream curses.

He vaguely registered the sound of the door opening. He couldn't let her get away now! He staggered up, but the room was spinning too fast for him to be able to make it to the door fast enough.

The room slowed down, and he wove his way to the door and looked out. She was nowhere in sight.

_She can't have gotten far_, he thought as he stepped out. He walked around the apartment complex, his pace growing steadily more urgent. He glanced up and down the streets, looked behind the building, but she had disappeared.

_Where the hell could she have gone?_

x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x

Summer stood behind the door, eavesdropping on Seth and Mr. Cohen, who were arguing.

Today had started out bad enough. No news except that there was a car that was set afire in an old lot in another part of town, but there really wasn't any way for the police to figure out what make the car had been- all that was left was a charred, twisted metal frame.

Then the letter from RISD had arrived. The school year was about to take off, and Seth was expected to be there in a couple of weeks. Seth, however, had refused to leave Newport until his mother was found. was sure his wife would be found soon- they weren't paying for the best police service for nothing, were they?- and was torn between the ideas of Seth throwing away his college career or staying home.

The argument made Summer painfully aware that she would have to be leaving soon as well, for G.E.O.R.G.E. But now she wasn't sure if she wanted to leave. And Ryan...well, he was just lingering around. She wondered why he hadn't left for Berkely at the same time she'd left for Brown. What had he been waiting for?

Footsteps were fast approaching the door, and Summer hurried to the kitchen, where she leaned against the counter and casually asked Seth (who appeared stomping and furious), "What was that all about?"

"Summer, you're with me, right? I can't go to RISD now!...And are you gonna leave for G.E.O.R.G.E?"

"I don't know what I'm going to do."

"You- you can't go!" sputtered Seth, his eyes wide. "You're not, right? Right? Summer?"

"I don't know, Cohen!" she hit his arm.

"_Ow_..."

"Sorry."

"Me too. You can go if you really need to."

"I don't think I'm going to. Yet. I think I want to stay here with you for awhile longer."

By now, they were hugging; Summer's back was to the counter, and Seth dipped his head down to kiss her. Their kiss was interrupted by Ryan, who was grinning wildly.

"Wait. Is Atwood actually _smiling_?" Summer feigned shock.

"I think so. We should take a picture, 'cause we're never gonna see that smile again." quipped Seth.

"The police just called Sandy's cell. Good news!"


	6. Chapter 6

The car was packed full of people. Mr. Cohen was driving, with Seth in the front passenger seat. Summer, Taylor, Ryan, Julie, and even Kaitlin had all squeezed in the back row. The fact that Kaitlin was coming surprised Summer; it wasn't as if the 15-year-old was especially close to the Cohens. They weren't speaking much, but a tangible excitement filled the small space. Summer had rolled down the window and was letting the wind mess up her dark hair, while Mr. Cohen tried to refrain from driving thirty miles over the speed limit the whole way there.

Ryan said, a little nervously, "Do you want me to drive?"

Earlier, the police had told them that a woman called in and said she may have seen Kirsten. They had said that they had sent an officer over to check it out. Then, while everyone had lingered anxiously in the Cohen kitchen, there had been another call-- this one was even better. Kirsten had been found, all the way up in Ventura.

The police said that she was being taken to the hospital nearest to where she was. The very idea of Kirsten having to go to a hospital worried them all, but at least she was alive and they knew where she was.

The hospital wasn't nearly as nice-looking as the HOAG. The interior was a little too austere for Summer's taste, but then she reminded herself that the doctors and nurses at this hospital could have, for all they knew, saved Kirsten's life. Mr. Cohen strode right up to the front desk and inquired as to which room his wife was in.

While they were walking down the stark corridor, they saw a police officer waiting outside one of the rooms at the end of the hall. It had to be Kirsten's room. As they approached, the officer looked at Sandy and said, "Mr. Cohen?"

"Hi." The two shook hands, and the officer explained that he was supposed to keep an eye out, because the kidnapper hadn't been found yet.

Sandy and the boys went in to visit her first. Taylor, Julie, Kaitlin, and Summer stood in a line, leaning against the wall. Julie's heeled shoe tapped sharp and impatient against the tiled floor. The officer didn't say anything to them.

Summer lost track of time, but when the guys emerged she got distracted by how distressed they looked. They were smiling, happy that she was safe, but there was a definite sadness in their expressions. No one else made a move toward the room, so Summer figured it was her turn to go in.

The first thing Summer noticed was that the room was very quiet. No heart monitors._ That's_ _good_. The second thing she noticed was Kirsten, and Summer couldn't help but stare in surprise at the short, brown, messy hair and wince at the nasty bruise on the left side of her face. Her left eye was swollen almost shut.

Was she in the right room?

Kirsten either didn't notice Summer's staring or she chose not to acknowledge it. Her face broke into a huge smile. "Summer!"

Summer smiled back somewhat awkwardly, then walked over and sat on a little chair that had been placed on the side of the bed. She wasn't sure what to say, so she said the first, most stupid thought that came into her head.

"Are you okay?"

Kirsten raised an eyebrow, and Summer blushed while mentally smacking herself. "I mean...um...Sorry, we've just been really worried out of our minds,and..."

Kirsten laughed lightly.

"It's alright. And I will be okay."

x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x

It had been a pretty painful trip to the hospital.

When Kirsten had run out from George's apartment, she'd had no idea where she was. She was too frightened to think clearly, only figured out that she should hide somewhere so that she wouldn't be found again. She'd ignored the pain, running up the sidewalk and ducking behind a nearby car. She'd heard his panicked footsteps and his muttering to himself.

She'd watched him, and when he went around the corner of the building, Kirsten had taken advantage of it and had dashed down the street in the opposite direction. People gave her funny looks, but she had continued running until she was blocks away from the apartment complex and her breath was coming out in short wheezes.

Her head and the side of her face was throbbing, her thighs hurt, and her hands were stinging because she'd managed to rip up some of the nails when she attacked her kidnapper. She'd looked in a store window where the light was just right to show her reflection. Her hair was all over the place, and if she reached up and touched the back of her skull, she could feel blood. Her clothes were too loose and dirty. Basically, she looked like hell. And she needed help now.

There actually weren't that many people on the street. Kirsten had decided it would be safer to ask a woman for help, and so had approached a tall black woman who was wearing jeans and a sweater and who looked nice enough. Kirsten cleared her throat, and the woman turned around, her eyes widening when they landed on Kirsten.

"Um, excuse me, I was just wondering, if you could, uh, help find the nearest police station?"

The woman stared, then seemed to come to her senses. She shook her head. "Honey, what you need is a _hospital_."

"But I have to tell the police where I am so they can call my family and tell them where I am."

The woman looked at her quizzically, so Kirsten explained, "I was, kind of, uh...kidnaped...and my family's been looking for me."

At least, she hoped they'd been looking for her. _Of course they were looking_.

She made sure to look pleading and pitiful, and she actually saw the moment when the woman went from being kind of freaked out to being all worried and sympathetic.

"Come on, then." She gently took Kirsten by the arm and pulled the tinier woman along with ease. While they walked, she shot glares at anyone who dared to look at them wierd, her arm protectively around Kirsten, who suddenly remembered to thank the woman for her help.

"My name's Gloria, and it's no problem. I have a daughter, and if anything like that happened to her, I know I would be worried outta my mind and would want someone to help her."

The police station came into view-- a squat, gray building with patrol cars lined in front. Kirsten was wondering what the hell she would say to the police men, but it turned out she needn't have worried. Gloria stepped in for her.

"Hello, officer. This woman her needs some help. See, she was kidnapped and was obviously hurt, so it would be real appreciated if you could contact her family."

The officer looked startled by the claim, as if he didn't think that kidnaping actually happened in real life. He looked over Kirsten, then said, "Your name?"

"Kirsten Cohen."

Gloria's arm tightened around her shoulder as the officer started typing rapidly, scanning the computer screen quickly and professionally. His hands stopped moving, then he nodded and said, "You've been missing for about two days?"

"Yeah."

"You're hair isn't blonde." He said pointedly.

"I _know_ that. It was dyed."

"Look, I'll call the force in Newport. In the meantime, Officer Lawrence will drive you to the hospital."

Officer Lawrence had wandered over upon hearing his name. He didn't smile, just said "Come along, miss" and started for the door.

Gloria stopped as Kirsten climbed into the patrol car. Kirsten had been expecting her to come with her to the hospital, so she stuck her head outthe window and asked, "You're not coming?"

"No, honey, I'm sure you'll be fine. I should probably get going anyway. Good luck to you."

"Thank you, again."

"You're welcome. Bye now."

She turned and walked away, Kirsten watching her in the rearview mirror as Officer Lawrence pulled away from the curb. He didn't talk the entire ride.

Once she was at the hospital, Kirsten was whisked behind a curtain so she could get stitches on the back of her head, bandages on her hands, and treatment for any injuries from the rape. Then she was taken up to a room with a two nice beds, a bathroom, and a drawn curtain separating the room in half.

Once in bed, she fell asleep quickly, exhausted from her great escape. She'd awoken to hear voices outside her room. And the one voice sounded suspiciously like..._Sandy!_

When she saw her family come in, it was all she could do to keep from crying and throwing herself at them to give them all as many hugs and kisses as possible. Actually, she did start to sit up, but she moved too quickly and the pain caused her to decide that it was better to just lie down.

Later that day, when she'd talked with everyone, she told them she was tired and was going to go to sleep. Sandy stayed by her, sitting in the little chair near her bedside. As she drifted off, Kirsten had never felt happier. She was safe and with her family and friends, and even though George and the kidnapper had yet to be caught, she was sure that they would be. And when that happened, she would make sure that they got what they deserved-- her money and her business connections would make that easy enough. She still had to tell them the details of her injuries, but she would do that later. Right now, she was content simply to listen to them, to revel in their presence and enjoy their love and comfort.

**The end.**

x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x

Awww.

Anyway, I was going to make this a few chapters longer, but then I remembered I had a couple of other OC fics I wanted to start before the series finale (sob). Thanks for all the reviews!


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